


Portrait Artist

by nospacescannotbeginorendwithunserscore



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Best Friends, Existential Crisis, Idol AU, M/M, Questioning God?, Slow Burn, Wine, artist minghao, legal drinking, like the slowest burn, supportive friend mingyu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nospacescannotbeginorendwithunserscore/pseuds/nospacescannotbeginorendwithunserscore
Summary: Mingyu and Minghao are best friends.Best friends who know how to appreciate the little things in life.





	1. Chapter 1

Color consumed him. He stared at his bottles of acrylics sitting across from him in rainbow order, but the decision of which to pick, which to blend, what goes where weighed over him. He was overthinking it, again. 

Minghao had been in a creative slump for weeks. Stressed over something that was supposed to be a simple hobby of self-expression and relaxation, not a chore of creating something with worry of how it was to be perceived by those around him. 

He picked purple, plucking the bottle with an almost disgusted hand as he settled for something he was unsure of. A dark, almost basic crayola color with no personality was what greeted him. Sighing, he matched it with black and red. He hoped to mix into a passionate cranberry color, but his impatience matched with too little red left him with a grape juice concoction on his palette. He just wasn’t liking anything that appeared before him.

Returning his eyes to his canvas, not trusting the color to put forth what he wanted he left the paintbrush untouched. He could see some vagues lines and comments he had left throughout the canvas, reminders of what he desired to convey. But the more time that passed between his initial planned sketch and his current state he had lost the heart the piece had first started with. 

Minghao’s attention was moved, a door opening and closing for a body that gave him a small smile and hands that held two wine glasses and an opened bottle. Minghao smiled in return, a lazed hand raised, retrieving one of the wine glasses. 

Mingyu let himself settle on the floor next to him, bumping his shoulder into Minghao’s as he peered into his work space. “How’s it going?” He smiled into the drink.

“As it’s been going, nowhere.” His voice whined, taking a long gulp from his glass. “I’ve just been hating everything I do.” His bottom lip jutted out in annoyance as one hand fiddled with the paint brush, squelching the paint in an unrefined way onto his palette. 

Mingyu tilted his head, taking in the canvas. “Well the good thing is. If you don’t like something you can just paint over it.” Swirling the glass near his nose, he kept his eyes on the canvas. “Maybe some music will inspire you?”

Minghao usually worked with music on, but his irritation just needed the silence. Even so, he made no effort to prevent Mingyu from going through his phone to play some slow beat rnb. He rested his head of Mingyu’s shoulder, another sip. 

“Did you have a meaning for this piece?”

“Yeah, it’s about my frequent frustration for the fine arts lately.” He snorted. 

Mingyu gave a small giggled in response, “What about you take a break, loosen up a little.” Mingyu stood, reaching for the others arm to raise him, but Minghao gave little to no effort to get up as he let his whole weight try and be supported by his friend.Eventually though he gave in and stood. 

Mingyu nodded his head with the music and he swayed with the music. Minghao laughed at him. “Is this what you meant by loosen up.”

“What?” Mingyu feigned ignorance, letting himself dance more to the music, hand holding his glass by the rim as he sipped more. “You’re too stiff,.”

Minghao rolled his eyes. Mimicking Mingyu as he swayed with the music. “How much did you drink before you came in here?” Mingyu shrugged, putting forward a hand for Minghao to take. The spun slowly, chuckling to themselves as Mingyu made an effort to look positively stupid while dancing.

“Are you inspired yet?” Mingyu rolled.

“By what?”

“My charm.”

“You’re disgusting.” Mingyu pretended to be hurt by his words but then plopped down on the floor, leaning back on his hands as he stared up at his friend. “You already made me stand, if you make me sit, I’ll kick you out.”

“You wouldn’t, you love me.”

Minghao rolled his eyes but made no effort to deny. Instead he favor finishing his glass, going towards the bottle that Mingyu had left over by his little art studio set up he had on the floor in the corner of the room. 

Changing the subject Minghao looked back down at his friend. “Want some more?”

Mingyu shook his head. “I’m good, I don’t want to get tipsy, just happy.” Minghao chugged his second glass with a quick knock back of his head. Mingyu laughed. “You should paint me.”

“If you want me to shit on a piece of paper you got it.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.” Minghao shrugged. “But seriously, if you’re in as big a slump as you say and continue being all dramatic all the time about this, just do some practice stuff. Some stuff you don’t have to think about too much.” 

He actually made sense but Minghao was less than willing to admit it without some form of teasing. “Oh please, you probably just wanted a reason to have a portrait of you around the dorm so you could look at yourself more.”

“It’s so all of you would be able to look at me more even when I’m not here. I’d be giving you the right to always being able to see my beauty.” He rolled a hand through his hair. “No, but you should draw me.”

“Pay me and maybe I will.”

“I’ll buy you lunch.” Minghao raised a brow at that.

“Dinner and drinks and I’m listening.”

“I’d say it’s a date, but that would be worth much more than a portrait.” Minghao kicked him in the ankle. 

He started moving to grab one of his sketchbooks and a pencil, Mingyu’s eyes glued to the wall opposite of himself as he waited, maybe he had drank more than he thought.

Minghao hopped up onto his bed, sitting criss-cross, his sketchbook in his lap as he waved Mingyu over.

“How should I pose?” Mingyu puffed out his lips, waving his arms over his head in a jokingly sultry way. 

Minghao, ignoring his friend, flipped his book open to a blank page “I don’t know, comfortably.” Mingyu sighed at the little to no reaction, but did as he was told. Pulling a pillow from the bed he leaned back against the wall, his hand in a fist pushed into his cheek to keep him rightside up, and he looked to his friend. 

“This alright.”

Minghao shrugged, “I guess.” 

He looked from the paper to Mingyu repeatedly before sighing and putting a soft hand to work as he began sketching some basic shapes. Minghao wasn’t a fan of realism so while he considered attempting to create an image easily identifiable as Mingyu, he wanted to make something he actually enjoyed. Putting pressure to the paper he made confident lines to represent the basic parts of the others face.

Mingyu reached for his phone, trying to keep one of his hands and his head as unchanged as possible. Looking to queue some other songs, he audibly exhaled.

He loved nights like this, just him and Minghao. It just felt like they were meant to be in eachothers lives with how comfortable and happy he was even when simply sitting in his presence. 

Mingyu liked seeing Minghao work on his art, but as of late his irritation with the practice only lead to furrowed brows and tired eyes in a less than focused way but rather sadness. He recalled walking into Minghao doodling in his sketchbook a few weeks ago and he looked on the brink of tears, tiredness from work and him missing his family had been weighing down on him but him being unable to express himself in a confident yet personal way was the breaking point it seemed. Mingyu wanted nothing more than for his friend to return to his confident, happy state that he had been in months prior. 

“How am I looking?”

“Like everything else I do lately, shit.” He pouted, his hand movements getting more pressured as his worn out eyes peaked up back onto Mingyu before returning to the sketch. 

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well once you see this you won’t.”

Mingyu frowned. “You never give yourself enough credit.” Minghao stayed quiet, eyes just flickering back and forth between lines drawn. Mingyu decided to change the subject. “Where should I take you for dinner?”

That seemed to liven up the tortured artist.

“Hmm, which expensive restaurant and hundred year vintage will I request from my dearest friend Kim Mingyu.” He smiled crookedly, thinking hard. He paused his drawer to press the end of the pencil to his bottom lip. “You know what I want actually.” 

“What?”

“I want you to make us dinner, like a picnic.” He smirked. 

“I said I wasn’t taking you out on a date.”

Minghao rolled his eyes. “Please you would never do this for a date, you’re not romantic enough to come up with something like this.” He returned to drawing, a cheeky grin taking to his features. “No but, I think it would be really fun. You prepare food, we go out just us, some wine, unbothered. I thought it would be fun...” He seemed to become quieter the longer he carried on into his thought process. 

He met Mingyu’s eyes, only to be met with a shit-eating grin. He rolled his eyes flustered. 

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Fine, never mind, instead of one meal, you have to cook for all the other members and managers.” Mingyu began shaking his head, nervously chuckling. “Stop moving.”

“No, no, a picnic sounds lovely!”

“That’s what I thought.” Minghao smirked. “You can cook whatever, but it can’t be like microwavable or some shit like that.”

“Okay, fine. Next time I have time to prepare a full meal for us I will do just that.”

Minghao smiled to himself. Silence took the conversation as Mingyu just watch Minghao carry on with his drawing. The silence was comfortable, stable. 

Mingyu liked looking at Minghao. He was handsome, but beyond that Mingyu just felt a comfort in his friend that he simply enjoyed the presence of. 

Minghao was dressed for painting, and sleep. A comfortable tee shirt that had gained stains from various art media’s lightly decorated and washed into the material. It went down to his thighs only to be met with a pair of comfortable basketball shorts that the other had owned since pre-debut. He still looked stylish despite the lazy-athleisure appeal of the outfit, as expected of Minghao but Mingyu still appreciated it. 

After minutes of Mingyu entertaining himself by staring down Minghao and the decor of the room, Minghao sighed, “This is shit, but I can just blame the model.” He flipped the sketchbook to show Mingyu; a stylistic rendition of himself was revealed, with harsh lines, occasional shading, and the existence and inspiration of a human only lightly sprinkled into the image. Mingyu loved it. 

“This looks amazing, dude!”

Minghao shrugged. 

“I seriously love this!”

A small smile took over Minghao’s features, he felt genuinely happy because of his friends reaction. “It was pretty nice to just draw with a goal already in mind… thanks, Mingyu.”

“Can I have this? I’ll hang it up in my room.” Minghao rolled his eyes, before tearing it out of the book and telling him to do as he pleases with the art piece. Mingyu smiled, holding the picture between his hands as he continued to observe the abstract image before him. Completely in grey scale, the soft yet dark lines seemed to contrast Minghao’s typical work but Mingyu liked it a lot. 

“I expect a portrait of me to be presented soon.” Minghao joked.

“Wow, a picnic and a portrait as payment? You drive a hard bargain.”

Minghao shut his sketchbook, tossing it next to his bed carelessly. Before moving to lean against the wall next to Mingyu. He made himself comfortable, shoulder to shoulder with Mingyu before he responded, “You don’t actually have to do any of that. I just thought it’d be nice.” His voice was softer, probably just tired.

Mingyu snorted at Minghao’s sudden shyness. “We made a deal, I don’t know when I’ll be able to repay it. But eventually I’ll do it.” He patted Minghao’s thigh. Mingyu held his long empty wine glass in one hand, Minghao’s leg in the other. 

“What time do we have to be ready to leave by tomorrow?” They both glanced at the clock, 1:34 A.M.

“I think seven, maybe seven thirty?” Minghao exhaled exaggeratedly, throwing his arms around Mingyu’s shoulder as he hid his face in the boys neck. 

Jumbled mumbles of what could only be assumed complaints about the time exited his mouth. Mingyu was going to make a joke but upon the bedroom door opening Minghao detached himself from Mingyu in such a subtle and speedy way it went unnoticed even by the taller boy. 

Soonyoung and Vernon had entered the room, mid conversation before Jihoon picked up the wine bottle and rolled his eyes before slinking over to his own bed, telling them to keep quiet since he was going to sleep. The others in the room gave various vague responses. Vernon messed with his own stuff, going to charge his phone, messing with some pillows and then eventually mirroring Jihoons actions of chasing dreams.

“I should probably head to my room.” Mingyu smiled. His drawing tucked between two fingers. “Thanks for this.”

Minghao smiled a lazy grin as he walked Mingyu out, leaning into the doorframe as he whispered. “Goodnight, Mingyu.”

The taller boy matched his grin, his tiredness seemingly appearing at the mention of sleep as he stifled a yawn. Letting his shoulders relax, he reached an arm out, patting the other man's side and responding, “Goodnight, Minghao.”


	2. I'm Lost but You Always Find Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just one of those days when you don't know what you want, who you are, or even what you are. But sometimes those days aren't too bad.

There would be days where Mingyu would just lose Minghao sometimes. They would be standing, practicing, hell-even mid conversation, Minghao would just kind of disconnect from wherever he was. The weight of all the expectations from family, friends, and family, or even the smallest thing like tiredness would just click something that signaled how Minghao just needed a break from the world. 

It happened to all the members, this overwhelming exhaustion that showed the need for privacy and alone time. It was natural to happen when you’re constantly surrounded by people, even when in your own home. But Mingyu just always observed it more obviously in Minghao.

The first time Mingyu experienced this after becoming close enough to Minghao to even notice it was happening, Mingyu thought he did something wrong. All of Minghao’s responses would be short, limited ways of speaking that just felt unnatural. He wouldn’t smile or laugh as naturally, or even as often. He just seemed uncomfortable whenever he would get into these mindsets. The first time Mingyu had thought maybe he upset the boy, and he spent a whole two to three days trying to make it up to him but it seemed to just tire out the other boy even more. 

It turned out it was just a wave of homesickness taking over Minghao and it ended with Mingyu walking into Minghao tearing up over the phone at 4 AM mumbling words in chinese. And later hugging Mingyu who also began tearing up about missing his family just because of the topic becoming relevant.

Those types of days weren’t super common, but they couldn’t be labeled rare either. Probably around once a month, but considering the fact of little to no privacy and being a spotline shoved on, it was a surprise these little breaks didn’t appear more often. The need for separation from most life, the ability to just not-be for a little bit, it seemed necessarily and appealing. 

 

Today was one of those days. They were seated in one of their vans, half of the group smushed into the 6 seats plus one for the manager to drive. Jihoon sat shotgun, Vernon and Jeonghan in the two middle seats, and Chan and Minghao on either side of Mingyu in the back of the car who had his legs stretched forward to take up the walkway. 

They were all excited, running on an adrenaline rush because the managers had agreed to take them out to dinner which was nothing to take light of considering how high the bill usually came out to be when feeding the thirteen boys. It was their last day of promoting their album and it seemed to be a day of high spirits. 

Jeonghan kept turning around in his seat to talk to the three of them in the back, his laugh airy as he tilted his head back, telling some story of one of the other members tripping over some cables backstage and practically doing a fall from a cartoon. Mingyu giggled along, but noticed Jeonghan's attention more towards Chan as he seemed to be more responsive in the conversation than himself. 

Minghao stared blankly, a friendly smile on his face as he tried to act as though he was taking part in the conversation but his eyes showed a tiredness that seemed more fitting of an old man than of himself. This attentiveness shown purely out of common courtesy but a far away feeling held over his overall aura, like he wasn’t all there. 

The car rumbled around a turn as Minghao practically flew onto Mingyu’s shoulder simply from lack of focus. Without making eye contact, he mumbled an apology before turning to look out the window, elbow propped with a hand to hold up his head. The city moved slow, speeding up then slow again. Lights from green to yellow to red to green, to red to red to red. He watched the back of Minghao’s head as the boy counted a rhythm with his fingers on his knee, probably running through a new choreography in his head. 

A flush of a warm rainbow filled the car opposite of Minghao. Chan being lit intensely by the setting sun and the beautiful bask of golden hour, but as it traveled through the car Minghao was just left with the shadows. Not that he should’ve been bothered, but it just felt odd, like it was adding another layer to the dullness Minghao was emitting. 

Eventually another turn came, and as unprepared as he was the first time Minghao fumbled slightly into Mingyu. Leaning forward to whisper unbenounced to the other boys, Mingyu asked, “Hey, you alright?”

Minghao turned to look Mingyu in the eye, widening as he gave a weak but genuine smile. He nodded. “I’ve just been kind of out of it today I guess.”

Mingyu nodded, figuring he needed some space. So as a sign of support Mingyu slid his hand to touch the back of Minghao’s. Looking only slightly forced as he stretched his arm to meet the hand on the other man's thigh. He was surprised though when Minghao’s hand moved to take his in his own. The boys weren’t nearly as touchy when not in public especially Minghao, but it was even rarer that they held hands in their own privacy. 

Jeonghan seemed to not pay it any mind as he continued chatting back to Chan about something Mingyu genuinely felt no real interested in but he continued nodding and adding an occasional response or giggle just because he wanted to feel included. Despite his visible attention on Jeonghan, his mind was focused on this physical anchor that had attached itself to him.

Today was just one of those days for Minghao.

Giving a small tug of support Mingyu held Minghao hand all the way to, and later, all the way from the restaurant.

Mingyu didn’t know it but Minghao felt lighter thanks to that hand.

-

Mingyu sat in his room, swaddled in blankets face illuminated by his phone as he scrolled through instagram. He double tapped on a photo Vernon had posted earlier, replying in the comments as though they weren’t separated by a mere wall. He only followed the seventeen members on his public account, so scrolling he saw Seungkwan had been doing various variety shows and had been posting photos with all the different hosts he had been working with as of recent. Josh’s recent posts with a few other members. So on. 

He was surprised to see it had been almost a week since the last time Minghao had posted. It wasn’t anything crazy, just… unusual. The boy was pretty enthusiastic about social media and photography, but thinking back to the week that had just past Mingyu did notice him spending less time on his phone, less time capturing small moments in passing through it’s lense. 

But speak of the devil, because just as he started thinking about him Minghao appeared peeking through the door slowly as if to make sure not to bother any possible sleepers. Seokmin happened to be asleep but he was a heavy enough sleeper that Minghao felt comfortable carrying on into the room. 

Mingyu waved at him with a simple hand movement, sitting up as Minghao crawled to sit against the wall. 

“What’s up, dude?” Mingyu whispered. 

Minghao hit the back of the wall with his head. He shrugged, his eyes tormenting the ceiling like it held his answer. “I’ve been trying to write lyrics…”

Mingyu nodded, “Anything good?” 

“I just, I don’t know what I’m putting down anymore. It’s not anything we could work with.”

Patting his shoulder, Mingyu gave a smile. “Well not everything is a masterpiece.”

Visibly Minghao deflated and Mingyu felt bad although there was nothing false about his words.

Minghao shrugged his shoulders again. His creative slump really had been taking him over in more ways than one. Mingyu felt horrible, writers block was one thing but it seemed Minghao had been having doubts over every action he took now a days.

“Do you want to show me what you’ve written.”

Minghao nodded slowly, taking a generous amount of time with each movement he made. The sheets rustled as Minghao pulled his notebook from beside him, obviously prepared (or perhaps even hoping) for that question. Mingyu hadn’t even notice him bring it in. 

In his hands was a sleek black binded book with stickers and paint bleeding into and around the cover, emphasizing the ‘lyrics by the8’ that filled the pages inside. It was a beautifully, old book that was originally a christmas gift, Minghao used it thoroughly though. Appreciating and respecting every page he took up in it. 

“I didn’t know who to show these to, they aren’t like anything I’ve ever really written, sorry if they’re shit, or don’t make sense. I don’t know what I was making.”

Minghao fiddled with the book, before eventually opening to a set of double sided pages that were bookmarked by the blue ribbon attached. Scribbles of words and arrows in various languages fit together across the pages. Circles and x’s drew attention to what Minghao did and didn’t like. 

Trying to weave together a story that Mingyu’s eye’s traveled through all the notices before setting his attention on one thing. Green ink seemed to be the most linear path, so he followed those words and arrows to discover a story.

 

I’ve got a god shaped hole that’s infected (Do I even believe in god??)  
And I’m petrified of being alone now  
It's pathetic, I know  
And I tossed and I turn in my bed  
It's just like I lost my head  
And I'm asking you Jesus??anybody??somebody? show yourself  
If I'm lost then how can I find myself? 

Little notes of self consciousness seem to fill the surrounding area, asking why he was thinking this, what’s wrong with him. Very personal notes that he displayed to Mingyu, different from the typical confidence Minghao wrote with. Mingyu gulped, openly shocked by what was written. He didn’t know where to start, the lyrics were beautiful despite being slightly concerning.  


Mingyu’s jaw dropped a little, turning to Minghao. “This is beautiful.”  


Shrugging into himself, Minghao wrapped his arms around his stomach. He seemed nervous.  


“Have you considered showing these to Jihoon?”  


He shook his head. “I don’t think it’ll lead to anything good, ya know?”  


Eyes guiding down the paper again, he wanted to press on more but Mingyu knew from first hand experience how embarrassing it could be to have people question your lyrics especially depending on how personal they are. But he wanted to know more.  


Mingyu’s thumb waved over a simple flower doodle in the corner on the page, soothing over it with the same respect would be shown to a literal, delicate flower and it’s petals.  


Mingyu decided to press on. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking. You keep mentioning God on this page, do you believe in Him?”  


Sighing, Minghao twiddle his thumbs, “I don’t know really what I believe anymore but I’ve just been having my issues with him if he is real.”  


A heavy silence started. “I believe in Him.” Mingyu mumbled. “I was raised to believe in him and I just never had any reason to question it… My family was lucky to never get sick, and we had enough money.” He felt a little like he was gloating but he didn’t know where to go with this conversation. “I don’t think about Him much, but I think He’s there. But I wasn’t raised to the point where I really know much of anything about the church, just what my mother tells me.”  


Nodding, Minghao curled his arms around his knees. “ I just have been wondering why, if he’s out there, why he makes people the way he does.” Mingyu stared at his hands.  


Minghao and him have had their fair share of existential conversations, usually over glasses of wine with hopeful gleams in their eyes about how while they aren’t necessary in the universe they had become prominent enough, to each other and their family and fans. But that gleam wasn’t present in this conversation.  


Minghao just looked so small.  


“Why create sins with the intention of people being born to commit them?” Minghao tried to think of examples. “Like, I don’t know? Like cursing? I just, I don’t understand, why have those words if we can’t say them. That’s not even a good example… But if he’s real, he’d make people question their or others existance just because they aren’t up to par with a book that’s up to interpretation.”  


Minghao seemed like he had a lot more hiding beneath the surface about this topic, he just seemed saddened by the topic. 

“Why can’t people just not make people feel bad for stuff they can’t help. Why does everyone judge one another, why do so many people hate other people for their differences.”

“Minghao?”

He was tearing up. 

“Are you alright?” 

He shook his head. “I just don’t know why I’ve been feeling horrible all the time. I’m just stressed lately and sad.” 

Mingyu moved, wrapping his arms around his friend. It seemed like there was an obvious topic that Minghao was avoiding talking about.

“Do you want to tell me more about it?”

Minghao shook his head, no. “No-not now.”

Mingyu felt sad but nodded, not wanting to push him. 

They sat in silence, the low lit room giving ambiance as Mingyu pulled Minghao into his shoulder, rocking together. Seokmin gave small confirmations of sleep with each soft snore that exited his mouth. Mingyu kept thinking about this existential crisis Minghao was going through.

If I’m lost then how can I find myself?

How did he lose himself?

The room was dark. A string of lights giving enough light to see but not enough to bother sleeping parties in the room. Mingyu kept a strong grip on Minghao, keeping them grounded in reality. They could hear the TV in the room next to them, other boys probably playing video game, the mumbles of conversation a soothing noise to lull them into comfort.

Mingyu decided to break their silence. “I put your picture up.” He twisted his neck, keeping his arm around Minghao’s shoulders. He turned his focus to the wall above his bed, mixed with pictures and polaroids of family and friends, was Minghao’s drawing, pinned in a way that the tac held up the picture without having pierced the paper. “I really love it.”

Minghao stared at the picture for a moment. Turning his attention to Mingyu, then the abstract picture before speaking. “I made you look better in your portrait.”

Mingyu laughed before shoving him away, but then easily sliding the man back under his arm. He leaned his head into Minghao. He could hear the other boy sniffle, he didn’t break down just crack a little. He wished there was a way he could help him more, but for now this is what he could do. Sit with him and make him feel noticed even during a time that he might not want to be. 

“But, if you’re comfortable, you really should show those lyrics to Jihoon, I think they could be something really good. You don’t ever have to release it.” Minghao nodded, messing up Mingyu’s hair. He mumbled a maybe, and that was good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics were taken from If I Believe in You by the 1975, I'm not actually good at song writing lol. 
> 
> Basically I'm going to be putting a lot of myself on Minghao in this fic. And while I'm not really sure what the plot of this fic is, I'm pretty much just making small day to day moments that aren't necessarily normal but emphasizing their importance as human interactions. IDK, lmao, but I hope you enjoy. (+I'll try and make Minghao happier in the next chapter but I'm just making this up as I go and rewrote this chapter like 4 times)
> 
> Also while I did edit this, I added more without double checking so sorry if there are a lot of dumb spelling mistakes!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> I might make this a multi-chapter but I'm so bad at commitment I'll just say this is a One-Shot for now~ Hope y'all like this, it's supposed to not be in your face romance, just the appreciation of the little things.


End file.
